


The vessel groans / The ocean pressures its frame

by dreadfultypewriter



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Choking, Comeplay, Crying, Finger Sucking, Godfucking, Hair-pulling, Large Cock, M/M, Other, Possessive Behavior, Praise, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Difference, Spit As Lube, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29382330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfultypewriter/pseuds/dreadfultypewriter
Summary: Zolf breaks up with Poseidon. Or, he tries to, anyway.
Relationships: Poseidon/Zolf Smith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	The vessel groans / The ocean pressures its frame

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Play Crack The Sky by Brand New

Breaking up with Poseidon is deceptively easy. Or, that’s what he thinks, anyway. He turns away from the basin of water he’s used to pray, about to go tell Wilde what happened, and then he's face down on the floor.

His legs have disappeared. This is fine, he thinks, they knew this would happen. He didn't quite expect it to be this immediate, but it's fine. Wilde has already commissioned a pair of new legs for him. He just needs to get to the door, and then out into the hallway, and then Wilde will be able to hear him when he yells. He's making his way slowly towards the door, grumbling about gods and their _so-called gifts._ He's almost there and –.

There are hands at his waist. There are hands at his waist and they’re bigger than any hand should be, human or otherwise. "Come on Zolf, you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

The voice is booming, reverberating through his entire being. The presence behind him is massive, but Zolf doesn't dare turn his face to look. He's heard the stories of mortals trying to look at gods in their true forms. It doesn't end well for them.

"It's okay," the voice says, barely more than a whisper now. "I'll leave you alone. I just want one last taste of what's mine. Because you are _mine_ , Zolf Smith. You'll always be mine, no matter how hard you try to deny it." Zolf takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the cool floor. He just needs to endure whatever it is Poseidon wants to do to him he thinks, fighting against the panic that threatens to grip him. And then he'll be free.

The hands move to the waistband of his trousers. Getting them off is trivially easy, now that his watery legs are gone. His underwear quickly follows. Zolf can tell where this is headed, but he refuses to acknowledge it. He keeps his eyes closed and his hands pressed flat to the floor to keep himself from doing something stupid like trying to struggle.

The hands on his hips disappear, and that's all the warning he gets before one of them grabs hold of his hair, pulling his head up and back. He can't help the whimper of pain that escapes him at that, but the sound is quickly muffled by the two fingers pressing past his lips. They're big, stretching his lips wide. "Suck," Poseidon says.

Zolf doesn't move, barely even dares to breathe. He may know that struggling won’t lead anywhere, but he also won't actively contribute to his own torture at the hands of his former god. Poseidon chuckles above him. "Very well," he says. "I'll do it myself." The fingers push deeper, hitting the back of his throat and making him gag. He chokes around the digits, spit running down his chin.

"I gave you the opportunity to do this the easy way. It's not my fault you chose not to take it." Zolf doesn't take the bait, he just keeps his eyes shut tight, and clings to the hope that this will all be over eventually.

The fingers continue fucking in and out of his mouth, and then finally they pull free, covered in his drool. The hand still holding onto his hair lets go, and Zolf barely manages to keep his head from smashing into the floor. The hand moves down his back, pushing his shirt up and pressing him down towards the floor. The pressure is barely there, but Zolf can't move at all. Not that he'd be able to get anywhere without his legs anyway.

The other hand presses in between his cheeks, rubbing against his hole. Zolf shudders at the feel of his own rapidly cooling spit against his skin. When the first finger pushes inside, Zolf has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out. It's thick, opening him up relentlessly as it pushes in and out of him. Too soon, the second finger joins the first, spreading his hole even wider.

Poseidon fucks him like that for several minutes before pulling his fingers free. Zolf's thighs are spread wide by powerful, demanding hands, and he feels the massive presence of the god kneeling between them. What pushes against his hole to replace the fingers feels too big to even comprehend. There's no way it's going to fit inside him. When he begins pushing it in, the pain is immediate. He groans through gritted teeth as he's split open on Poseidon's giant cock.

"Stop," Zolf chokes out finally. " _Please_. It's too big."

To his credit, Poseidon does stop. For a moment, anyway. "You’ll take it," he says. It’s not a question, not even a statement. It’s an order. He begins pushing deeper, and Zolf has to bite down on his wrist to keep himself from screaming at the pain of it. "Good boy," Poseidon says, leaning down and whispering into Zolf’s ear. "Wouldn’t want your little friend next door to hear you, would you?"

That’s what finally breaks him. The thought of Wilde hearing him, maybe even coming to investigate. He’d be incinerated before he even reached the door. A sob escapes his throat but is muffled by his arm. "Hm, you care about him, do you? Cute. If I wasn't busy making a point with you, maybe I'd get him in here too. He's supposed to be a _fun_ one."

Zolf shudders thinking about whatever gods Wilde may have crossed paths with, and just _hopes_ that he doesn't decide to come check up on him. Poseidon's breath is hot against the back of his neck as he continues fucking deeper into Zolf's body. When he finally bottoms out, Zolf feels filled to the brim, as if he's seconds away from splitting apart at the seams. He tries his best to breathe deeply, panting heavily against the floor.

"That's a good boy, taking me so well." Poseidon pulls back briefly before fucking back in harshly, driving the air from Zolf's lungs. There's no pleasure in this for him, even when Poseidon's cock happens to strike his prostate. All he can do is hang on for the ride and wait for it to be over.

Poseidon fucks him roughly – a hand on his hip is all that's keeping Zolf from sliding across the floor with the force of his thrusts. He doesn't know how long it goes on for, but it feels like an eternity where he's lying on the floor, half naked, his life and body in the hands of a literal god.

When Poseidon finally starts speeding up it's a blessing and a curse in one – on one hand, if he's lucky, this whole thing might be over soon. On the other, the pain increases with the speed, and he's no longer able to keep silent. The grunts and whimpers that are fucked out of him are still relatively quiet, and could easily be mistaken for sounds of pleasure. He doesn't want anyone to hear him, and he especially doesn't want anyone who hears him to think he's enjoying himself.

Poseidon fucks into him once, twice more, and then he stills. Zolf can feel the come filling him up rapidly, and he's no expert, but he's fairly certain there shouldn't be this much of it. A slightly hysterical laugh escapes him as he briefly considers asking Wilde how normal this is. He quickly muffles it in the crook of his arm, as the laughter turns to sobs. This time, he can't stop the tears.

When Poseidon pulls out, a rush of come follows, and Zolf sobs harder into his arm, trying desperately to muffle the sound. A massive hand spreads him open, and Zolf shudders violently as thick fingers start pushing the come back inside. "Do you know how many people would kill to be where you are?" Poseidon asks forcefully. "To have this _blessing_? But then I guess you always were ungrateful."

Zolf doesn't reply, doesn't even have it in him to stop crying. The fingers finally pull away, wiping the excess come off on the inside of Zolf's thighs. "I hope you think of me when you look at the ocean. And that you remember this lesson when you think you've managed to move on. Because no matter what you do, you'll always belong to me."

He hasn’t looked up even once during this entire ordeal, but somehow Zolf knows that Poseidon is now gone.

A long time goes by before he even attempts to move. When the tears finally run dry, he starts trying to pull himself back together. He cleans himself up as best he can, using the magic he somehow still has access to. He doesn’t question it, too focused on getting Poseidon's come out of him, on getting rid of the lingering feel of his touch all over him. He doesn’t dare to even look at the basin of water still standing in the corner of his room.

He pulls the shirt he's still wearing over his head, tosses it away from him, along with the trousers and underwear Poseidon pulled off him an eternity ago. Only when he's finally managed to dress himself in fresh clothes, the legs of his trousers rolled up past his knees, does he start moving towards the door.

His entire body aches from being held against the floor, but he resolutely refuses to think about it. He just needs to get to the door, and then he can call for Wilde. And it'll be fine. He'll be fine. It's over.


End file.
